The city felt different that night.
The rain had stopped, but the streets still glistened like glass. The air smelled of metal and secrets. Every sound echoed louder than usual—the hum of traffic, the whispers of strangers, the soft thud of my own heartbeat.
I walked without direction, clutching my phone though the screen was cracked. Ethan's photo with Lydia burned into my mind. My chest ached, but I couldn't cry anymore. I was past tears. Now, I wanted answers.
Someone had exposed me.
Someone wanted my marriage destroyed.
And Ethan... he had let them win.
I reached my small studio again, the one that used to feel like a hiding place. Tonight, it felt like a cell. I locked the door, pulled the curtains shut, and turned on the small lamp beside the bed. Its warm light painted everything in gold and shadow.
My reflection in the mirror didn't look like me anymore. My eyes were dull, my skin pale, my hair sticking to my cheeks. I looked like someone lost.
I took a deep breath and picked up my laptop. I opened every tab I could find—news, social media, gossip blogs. My name was everywhere.
"Secret wife of Ethan Blackwood caught cheating."
"Love triangle: Billionaire, socialite, and the hidden wife."
Every word felt like poison.
But one headline caught my attention.
"Insider reveals: Leaked photos linked to Blackwood Corporation's PR director."
PR director.
That was Lydia.
My heart thudded hard. I clicked the article, but it was vague—just whispers, no proof. Still, it was enough to spark something inside me.
I wasn't crazy. Someone had set me up.
I searched deeper, my fingers shaking as I typed. I dug into old news, company records, anything that could connect Lydia to the leak. That was when I found a name buried in one of the reports.
Rex Langford.
A private investigator hired by the company two months ago—by Lydia herself.
Why would she need a PI unless she was looking for something... or someone?
A sharp knock jolted me.
My heart stopped.
I froze, listening. The clock ticked.
Another knock, louder this time.
I swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's there?"
No answer.
The knock came again, softer now, almost cautious.
I reached for the pepper spray I kept by the door, my hand trembling. Slowly, I turned the knob and opened the door just a little.
"Emily?"
The voice made me blink. "Alex?"
He stood there, drenched from the rain, eyes full of worry. "I saw the news. Are you okay?"
I exhaled shakily and stepped aside. "Come in before someone sees you."
He entered quickly, closing the door behind him. His clothes dripped onto the floor, but I didn't care. For the first time since yesterday, I didn't feel completely alone.
He studied me for a long moment. "You look like you haven't slept."
"I haven't." My voice was barely there.
He frowned. "Emily, you have to tell me what's really going on. That photo they used—it's making it look like we—"
"I know," I said quickly. "They twisted it. Someone's trying to ruin me."
He looked down, guilt shadowing his face. "Ethan called me earlier. He asked if we were having an affair."
My chest tightened. "What did you say?"
"The truth," Alex said. "That we were friends. That nothing happened. But, Em…" He hesitated. "He didn't sound like he believed me."
I turned away, feeling that familiar sting in my chest. "He doesn't believe anyone anymore."
For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of rain dripping from his jacket. Then Alex's voice softened. "Do you know who's behind it?"
I nodded slowly. "I think it's Lydia."
His eyes narrowed. "The woman from the office?"
"Yes. She's always been close to him. Too close." My voice shook. "I think she planned all of this—the leak, the photos, everything."
He took a step closer. "Then you can't sit here and do nothing. You have to fight back."
I looked at him. "How? She's powerful, Alex. She knows how to twist every story."
"Then we twist it back," he said simply. "Let me help you."
Something in his tone steadied me. I nodded, though fear still clung to my ribs.
We spent hours going through files, messages, anything that could prove Lydia's involvement. Most of it led nowhere, but then I remembered something—an old voice message Ethan once played for me. It was Lydia, talking about "a secret project." He said it was work-related.
But what if it wasn't?
I searched through my phone backups, scrolling until I found the recording. When I pressed play, Lydia's voice filled the room.
"Make sure no one finds out about the photos. If Ethan learns before I'm ready, everything will fall apart."
My blood ran cold.
Alex's eyes widened. "That's her."
I nodded slowly. "This is proof."
Before we could say anything else, my phone buzzed again. A text.
Unknown number: You really don't learn, do you?
My stomach flipped. Then another message came in.
Check your window.
I turned slowly toward the window. My fingers went cold.
A small red dot flickered across the glass. A laser.
"Get down!" Alex yelled, pulling me to the floor.
A loud crack followed—the sound of glass shattering. A bullet tore through the window, slamming into the wall behind us.
I gasped, my ears ringing.
Alex grabbed my arm. "We have to get out of here!"
We crawled to the back door, hearts pounding. Another shot echoed, and the lamp shattered, plunging the room into darkness. My breath came fast and shallow.
When we finally made it outside, the street was empty. Whoever had shot was gone.
We ran until we reached the next block, ducking into an abandoned shop. My whole body trembled. Alex checked his phone. "We can't call the police. Whoever did this... they might have connections."
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to calm down. "Someone wants me gone."
He nodded grimly. "And if we don't find proof fast, they'll make sure the world believes their story."
That night, we didn't go back. We stayed hidden in a small motel outside the city. My thoughts kept circling back to Ethan. Did he know about this? Was he part of it—or trying to protect me from something worse?
By morning, the world already had new headlines.
"Emily Blackwood missing after scandal."
The irony made me want to laugh and cry at the same time.
Alex was pacing when his phone buzzed. He answered quickly, then froze. "It's Ethan."
My heart jumped. "What does he want?"
Alex looked unsure. "He said he needs to see you. Alone."
I hesitated. "Did he say why?"
"No. But he sounded... desperate."
My hands shook as I grabbed my coat. "Then I'm going."
"Em, this could be a trap."
I looked at him. "Or it could be my only chance to find the truth."
We drove back into the city. The meeting place wasn't his office—it was the pier near the old marina. The sky was gray again, heavy with unshed rain.
When I saw him standing there by the water, everything inside me twisted. He looked tired. His suit was wrinkled, his eyes hollow.
"Ethan."
He turned, and for a second, I thought I saw relief in his face. But it was gone in a blink.
"You shouldn't have come," he said quietly.
"Then why ask me to?"
His jaw tightened. "Because I needed to warn you."
"Warn me about what?"
He looked around before stepping closer. His voice dropped. "Someone inside the company set you up. They want you destroyed because you were never supposed to exist."
I frowned. "What does that mean?"
He hesitated. "Our marriage—it wasn't just hidden for privacy. There are contracts, investors, deals that depend on my public image. If they know I'm married, it could cost billions. Lydia made sure of that. But she wasn't supposed to take it this far."
My heart raced. "So she leaked it?"
He nodded slowly. "And now she's after you. Because you're the only thing that can ruin her plans."
I took a shaky breath. "Then why did you let her stay? Why make me believe you chose her?"
His eyes darkened. "Because she's dangerous, Emily. If I show my hand too soon, she'll destroy everything."
I stared at him, trying to read his face. "Then tell me what you're not saying."
He looked away, his voice barely audible. "She's not just working for the company. She's working for someone else. Someone who wants me gone."
The air thickened. "Who?"
Before he could answer, a sound broke through the silence—a click, soft but sharp.
I turned toward it. A red dot landed on Ethan's chest.
My breath caught. "Ethan—"
A shot rang out.
He stumbled backward, eyes wide, the sound echoing over the water.
I screamed his name as he fell.
The pier went silent except for the crash of waves.
And somewhere in the distance, a shadow moved, watching.